The Piteous Life of Sherlock Holmes
by bethwiggo
Summary: Alone had worked. It suited him. But then he met John and things changed. And then after him brought Elizabeth. The perfect woman. With a dark past she is determined to hide this past from Sherlock. But what she fails to notice is that a certain man has already realised her past and is after her. Can Sherlock and John protect her from the awful truth? Or is she ruined?
1. Chapter 1

Late. That's all he ever was. Completely and utterly late. Of course Sherlock never reasoned that John did everything. John ran errands, John went out shopping, John organised the bills, John made the meals and overall John was the new peace keeper between Sherlock and the new neighbour. Their personalities clashed, as the neighbour was quick witted and smart too but she wasn't a complete show off like Sherlock. Sherlock relished in his brains and genius whereas she hid from them. Her name was Elizabeth, a fitting name for such a mild-mannered woman. There were days in which Elizabeth was the most loveliest person you could ever meet and then other days were she would have run ins with Sherlock and not come down to their flat for days. John resolved these spats in boiling the kettle and sitting them down in perfect silence to drink it.

Sherlock himself was fond of Elizabeth, she would also bore easily at trivial things John would do, like the kettle boiling or coffee making. Sherlock grew tired of John so when Elizabeth arrived things didn't seem to bad. The day was still fresh in his mind,

_It was a dreary winters night as the snow fell on 221B. Freezing John had lit the fire. There was a rap-tap-tap on the front door and Ms. Hudson bundled to the door the soft pacing of her slippers was heard to Sherlock's ears. _

_"Hi is this 221B?" A soft woman's voice spoke._

_"Yes dear it is, oh are you Elizabeth Bennett the new resident?'' Ms Hudson spoke in an equally soft tone._

_"Yes that's me. Sorry can I come in, it's freeing out here.'' The woman spoke warmly._

_"Oh dear so sorry, where are my manners!" Ms Hudson laughed._

_The woman laughed but sneezed too._

_Sherlock grinned as he knew what Ms Hudson's mannerism was like._

_"It's just up here dear." Ms Hudson spoke again._

_The girl remained quiet until she reached Sherlock's flat as his door was wide open. John sat alert obviously noticing her beauty for that is what she was. Her hair was brown with voluminous brown curls cascading to just before her breasts started. Her skin was pale but she had bright red cheeks from the new found warmth in the house, she also had plump lips that were still a purple colour from the cold. Above a small button nose there were these massive green eyes that seemed to shine. From her attire it seemed she was absolutely freezing as she had a pair of dark jeans on, riding boots, a long sleeve top visible from underneath her cream jumper which she covered with a thick brown coat and a floral scarf. On her head she had a woollen hat and on her hands she had some leather beige gloves._

_"Hello. I'm Elizabeth the new neighbour." She spoke in a husky, tantilising voice._

_And from that moment Sherlock knew the new addition would be a great thing._

The sudden slam of the front door snapped Sherlock out of his memories. Sitting with his feet tucked under his buttocks and hands pressed firmly together as if in prayer, Sherlock remained in his pensive mood.

"Oh don't worry Sherlock, we've got this." Elizabeth spoke sarcastically juggling three shopping bags at once.

"Good" was the reply.

Sherlock could hear Elizabeth muttering something under her breath and loudly staking the food into the fridge.

"Fingers Sherlock!" She exclaimed." For god sake!"

"I was bored." He replied.

"Then read a book or something! You don't keep fingers in a fridge were you keep food.'' She still ranted.

"I've read every book in this house, back to front, front to back." He stated.

"Then why don't you walk down the high street to Waterstones and pick a bloody book." Elizabeth wasn't giving up easily.

John mused. He loved watching them argue as they argued like they were married or something.

"Fine. I will on Saturday if you come with me." Sherlock tried his luck.

"Fine." She replied secretly happy with the outcome.

Bidding a farewell to John and Sherlock she retired to her own flat. It had place blue walls in the living room with light cream coloured furnishings to match. Her bedroom was a soft purple with a double bed in the middle, although the other side of the bed was rarely slept in. Her wardrobe was nearly empty as she had left most of her clothes behind.

She thought that running from the past was hard but running from the truth was much harder. And the truth hurts.


	2. Chapter 2

(This Chapter will be told in the POV of Elizabeth, throughout this story the POV of the character will change multiple times so I will inform you at the top of the page with the name of the character underlined.)

**_Elizabeth_**

Why am I up so early? I moaned realising the time. I completely forgot that Spring half term was over and I had to go back to my teaching job. I love teaching, it feels like a proper purpose in life. I mean, yes, some of the children are nasty, horrible people who I am certain won't make it far in life but still I never fail in helping them. After all they are the future generation and the way things are going brain-wise in Britain, we sure do need some more genius'.

I walked into the bathroom feeling all the cold tiles beneath my feet. Even though it was Spring it was only a mere twelve degrees. I have been living at 221B for nearly eight months now and what a ride it has been. So far we have had two cases which of course John so aptly names, they are: "A Study In Pink" and "The Blind Banker."

After washing I went to my wardrobe and pulled out some clothes, chucked a pair of shoes onto my feet and grabbed my bag and my laptop with all my work on it. I looked like this red/set?id=91675820#fans

Checking my watch and finding that I had nearly two hours to go, I walked down to Sherlock's flat and was greeted by John at the door.

"Oh going somewhere nice are we?'' He asked with a raise of an eyebrow.

"Yes, work" I smiled rolling my eyes.

"Ah back to teaching children." He sighed. "It's a dog's life for them."

I smiled and Sherlock wandered in from his room, wrapped in his duvet and sat in his chair. His expression was blank so I assumed he didn't see me.

"You're going to be late." Sherlock stated.

"No I'm not" I replied getting up to open the curtains. "But I see you are in a foul mood again so I shall depart, good morning John ,hope you have a nice day and Sherlock..."

I paused for a minute to catch my breath. "Try not to get bored."

With that I gave him an exaggerative kiss on the head and ran down the stairs out the front door and into a taxi that I had just hailed. Living in the city of Westminster there were plenty of schools to teach in. I teach in an Independent School because it pays more but the people who work there are so obtuse it is almost unbelievably, they are completely unaware as to how poor some people can be. I know how poor people can be as for a long period of my life I was poor and unwanted too but that is a story for another day.

Lunch time couldn't come any sooner. Teaching children the same thing about History every single year really was tedious but it suited me. Sherlock might get off on murder cases and death but this is what I got off on, the ability to shape someone else's life just by being there.

"Lunch better be good today." I muttered leaving my room to go down to the canteen.

Much to my dismay, it wasn't. In fact it looked as if some-one had just vomited it back up. Forlorn I made my way to the staff room to collect my coat and go out to a cafe for lunch. On my way to the room my phone buzzed with a text.

**_Get to 221B Baker Street Important -SH_**

I sighed and tucked my phone back into my bag. One of the many things about Sherlock is that he just expects you to drop everything if he wants you to. I decided though I would give him half an hour of my lunch before I had to get back to teach last lesson.

"What is it Sherlock?" I said slamming the door behind me.

"Oh I just wondered if you want some lunch?" He said walking into the living room with some sandwiches.

"You couldn't have asked me this morning though could you Sherlock?'' I sighed sitting down in his chair.

He sat opposite me in John's chair.

"Of course not, I was thinking this morning and now I have remembered, it was important because I had to tell you before I forgot." He said taking on of the sandwiches and putting it on a plate.

"These aren't finger sandwiches are they?" I laughed recalling Friday night's conversation.

Sherlock grinned and shook his head. "Of course not, these are brain instead!"

A loud explosion ripped across the room and dust and bricks from the wall where thrown at me. Ducking I tried to avoid them but the dust clogged my eyes and I couldn't see, on the floor coughing a piece of debris flew straight into the side of my eye and made a deep cut. I gasped in pain and reached up to touch it. The red of blood oozed down the side of my face and all over my hands.

"Sherlock!" I called out wincing with pain.

I heard some scuffing which sounded like a very confused Sherlock getting to his feet. He muttered something under his breath and then he saw me.

"God, are you hurt?, don't be hurt!" He exclaimed fussing about me.

"I'm fine Sherlock, it's fine! Just call Lestrade." I groaned at the pain but gave Sherlock a don't-come-near-me sort of look.

Minutes later I was sitting in the back of an ambulance with John and Sherlock. They both kept eyeing me nervously. John had rung up my work and said about the explosion, they didn't believe him at first but after seeing it on the news and Sherlock yelling down the phone at them, they said it was fine and that I should take all the time I need off.

I was shocked by Sherlock though, as I had never seen him care so attentively to someone before. Why was it me though?

"That wasn't a gas link it was an bomb attack made to look like one." Sherlock whispered over to me and John.

"But what does that mean?" John asked.

"I think it means that a storm is coming, and we all best be ready when it does." I whispered and squeezed Sherlock's hand harder.


End file.
